


Holding it Together Like a Rubber Band

by KiratheCarrionite



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: But it works for them?, Codependency, Established Relationship, Knotting, M/M, Marking, Peter is Alpha, Porn, Really Really Codependent, Rough Sex, Slash, The Pack is Codependent Too, This is How Stiles Takes Care of His Pack, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-02
Updated: 2012-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-06 16:02:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/420714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiratheCarrionite/pseuds/KiratheCarrionite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the day, Peter is the Alpha they need. </p>
<p>Because at night, Stiles holds him together by letting Peter take him apart.</p>
<p>All Stiles wants is to take care of his mate and his pack.</p>
<p>AKA: The fic where I was force to ask myself just how codependent is *too* codependent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding it Together Like a Rubber Band

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saucery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saucery/gifts).



> Warning: This story contains a very unhealthy relationship, and the sex reflects that. If you are triggered by such things, read further at your own risk.

See, the thing is – Stiles is very aware. He may not look it, or sound it, but Stiles is aware.

He's aware that he doesn't have the inborn knowledge that Derek and Peter do, about werewolf shenanigans. He's aware that he doesn't have the desperation to belong that Jackson does. He knows he doesn't have the single-minded devotion that Scott does for Allison, or Lydia's sharply cutting aloofness.

What Stiles _does_ have is his awareness. He can see the others' blindness to certain things. And he works hard to let them keep that blindness.

That's why, instead of being asleep in his bed, or skyping Scott and pretending to do homework, he is alone with Peter Hale. He's face down on Peter's bed, bare and shivering, because -

Because no one really wants to know what goes on between the Alpha and his mate. No one wants to hear the hoarse sounds that Peter pulls out of Stiles on nights like these. No one questions the marks left on his wrists and shoulder-blades. Because Peter is sane enough during the day, and they owe it all to Stiles and no one wants to know that and _Stiles_ doesn't want them to know that, because more than anything -

More than anything, Stiles wants to protect Peter. And maybe that's the most fucked up thing out of this entire unhealthy codependent pack mentality ...thing. Stiles wants to protect Peter, when all Peter wants right now is to mark him bloody.

Stiles will protect the frantic, desperate sounds that Peter makes into the nape of his neck. Stiles guards with all he has, the harsh and jealous movements that pin him to the bed.

“You let them touch you,” Peter whispers, mouth crushed to the shell of his ear. “You let them put their scent on you.”

Stiles can feel the shape of fangs pressed into delicate skin, and he shivers again.

“I told you not to do that,” Peter says, his breathing growing harsher, “I told you.”

“I'm sorry,” Stiles whispers, and his voice trembles, because, god, he actually is. He's sorry that he didn't, _couldn't_ avoid the casual brushes of classmates against him in the hallway. He's sorry that anyone's scent has time to overlap Peter's during the day.

“I have to – you, you don't understand, I have to,” Peter says. Stiles shudders out a breath, but he feels calmer, almost. Even more aware. Peter's claws graze him as they trace down his back, fumbling down to unzip Peter's jeans. Peter is breathing hard, edging into growls.

“Shh. I know, I understand,” Stiles says, pulling deep breaths into his lungs while he still can.

“I can't, I need,” Peter says, as he pushes Stiles' face into the cotton bedspread. Stiles turns his face, takes another deep breath as his hands are trapped above his head in one of Peter's. He knew this was coming, he knew Peter would need this, so -

Peter shoves hard and thick into Stiles' hole and Stiles lets out a strangled gasp. He learned, early on, to prepare himself beforehand. It'll help some.

Stiles can feel the rough denim lines of Peter's pants, pressing into his ass as Peter sinks in entirely. Peter exhales and stills. He is calm for just one second.

The rest is brutal. Peter is trying to fuck straight through Stiles, trying break him and wreck him. The friction is too fast and hard and deep inside him and all Stiles can do is ride it out. There are stings and cooling saliva on his neck and shoulders as Peter bites deep enough for blood. Stiles has no chance to move and can only – can only wait. Peter has moved past words and into growls that could mean threats or endearments or both.

Then – god, fuck. Peter is rocking in and out, just slightly back and forth. He's grinding right up against Stiles' abused body, and, fuck, swelling up. He's knotting Stiles and his voice is rumbling and resonating through Stiles and back into his chest. The pressure is intense and thick and forcing whimpers out of Stiles though he has no breath to spare. Peter's hips jerk and grind, teasing and pulling at Stiles until his eyes are watering and it's not like he can see anything anyway, with the white noise filling up his ears and eyes and mouth.

When he surfaces, all he can feel is his skin throbbing. And aching. His fingers and palms are tingling from the returning blood-flow. He notices, incidentally, that he's on his side now, with Peter behind him and his hand on Stiles' dick. He guesses, from the way Peter is massaging Stiles' own come into his stomach, that he must have orgasmed.

There's an itchy, ticklish trickle of liquid on his neck and collarbone, and Stiles blinks. Must be blood. He's covered in sweat, and – Peter is still throbbing inside of him.

Right now, his ass just feels stretched and sore. In the morning, it won't feel nearly so nice. Hopefully the magical werewolf healing power will have time between now and then to take care of some of that. If it doesn't, Peter will look at Stiles with that solemn, careful look on his face.

In the morning, Peter will apologize to Stiles. Carefully. His hands will be gentle. Caring. His voice will be soft and he'll cradle Stiles in his arms. That's what the others will see. And Stiles won't mind that.

Because right now, when Peter hasn't found words yet and is still grumbling and licking and nipping – this is where Stiles is needed. Tomorrow morning can't happen if this doesn't happen, first.

The others will see Peter safe and sane and charming. Derek and Jackson will have the family they so desperately need, Scott will have guidance, and Lydia will have quiet validation.

It's okay. Because Stiles has this.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I would love to hear from you.


End file.
